Cooking In The Apocalypse

Cooking In The Apocalypse 

hospitality in un-hospitable times 

It’s no secret that we live in perilous times. You can try and cover your ears, maybe drown out a bit of the noise through content binges or the grind of daily work and life. But deep down we all know what's happening. Humans have an affinity for self destruction, and history may not always repeat itself, but it always rhymes. 

So whether it's war, economic collapse, A.I. overlords, aliens, or something in-between, we are on the verge of our next great challenge as humans. The bad news is we can’t avoid the turmoil caused by the collective powers that be, the good news is that we can always choose to be individually hospitable to others no matter our circumstance. 

I never had a great passion for cooking and hospitality. Prior to this journey, the extent of my cooking was mostly done over a campfire, and my scattered brain often led to my idea of hospitality being best described by forgetting one of my best friends' weddings. I don’t love hosting dinner parties, I honestly loathe group events, and my limited attire would never grant me access into the upper echelon of parties or fine dining. 

That being said, hospitality is a call to all humans. It appears to be both a call subconsciously to us from within, as we long for support and comfort; and also a call from us to the world as we naturally seek to connect with others through service and friendship. 

To me, I think the thought above perfectly explains the passion our team has for cooking and hospitality, even in the apocalypse. We don’t always know why, but we have this inner craving, night after night and week after week, to reach out into a fairly dark world that we can't do much to save, and invite people in for dinner. 

It's this craving to curate an atmosphere unlike anything they were expecting, lead them to some version of child-like “peace in the moment”, guide them intentionally through thoughtfully crafted steps of service, and present them with delicious food that undeniably makes the case that we care a lot about both them and the ingredients we work with. And somewhere in that journey, we find our own peace, connectivity, and sense of community with our team and our guests.

So despite the bullshit around the world caused by un-hospitable people, we can individually choose to be hospitable. Hospitality can mean something different for every person. 

For my team and I, it starts with inviting you to dinner. A dinner we hope is unlike anything you can experience in the Upstate. So dine with us this weekend as we change, grow, and invite you into a few hours of intentionality in an increasingly disconnected world.